Around this time, a Breton in neat clothes brought them a plate of sweet rolls, causing Drernar to pause. "So," said Artorius, "did some ancestor anger some Daedra followers or something?"
"Not exactly," said Drernar, taking a sweetroll. "It all goes back to events of my father's time, around a hundred and fifty years ago." Drernar leaned in again, taking a nibble of the sweetroll, and Artorius could tell they were in for a long story.
"Our family used to have a plantation in Morrowind, which was responsible for a large part of the Nero fortune, though it's been maintained through other means since. It was there that my father, Edras Nero, spent his childhood. He was the sole child of his parents, but with them lived a cousin, Thavas, who may well have been his brother, adopted from some less-prosperous relatives. Edras and Thavas were inseparable as children, and treated with equal care and affection by my grandfather. They grew into strong and respectable young mer together, though also caused their share of trouble, chasing netches and the like. Thavas always had a way of talking his way out of trouble though, which not only helped both of them escape punishment at times but also helped in pulling tricks. My mother told me of innumerable misadventures those two got into.
However, the time would come for them to separate. On the cusp of adulthood, my grandfather sent them both away to be formally educated. Edras went first to study in Vivec city, then to Mournhold. Thavas went first to Balmora, and then to the Imperial city. Edras returned home far earlier, well schooled in Dunmeri history and the ways of the houses, and my grandfather wished to teach him further in the affairs of the family and the plantation. Thavas returned home several years later, having studied and dabbled in many trades, particularly magic and finance. They were exuberant to see each other again after those years, but my grandfather soon encouraged Thavas to leave again, giving him some money and the suggestion to invest in shipping charters.
Two years later, he returned again, having made a modest fortune for himself, but my grandfather bade him stay no longer than a visit, directing him to a timber enterprise in Skyrim. Thavas returned again, and in a shorter time was bade to leave and attempt Ebony speculation. And so on. At last, when suggested that he become a landlord in Cyrodil, Thavas expressed his intention to marry my mother, Amava, the daughter of a prestigious Hlaalu retainer. However, when he spoke this, my grandfather made his own intentions clear. He had treated both Edras and Thavas as his own, well-loved them both, but as the blood-son, it fell upon Edras to continue the family and inherit its affairs. He would one day own the plantation, and he would marry Amava, as both families had already arranged. Thavas would have to depart the family affairs, but because of this, his schooling had been longer, and more expensive, to prepare him well for making his own fortune. Seeming to understand, Thavas departed once again with as much goodwill between them as ever there had been.
Over the next year, my grandfather became sick with the Blight. He could easily afford the best healers in Morrowind, but despite their efforts, they could not cure him. It soon became apparent that, rather than merely the Blight, he was suffering from the early stages of the dreaded Corprus. Friends and relatives came to look after him as his condition worsened, and Thavas returned once more, this time welcome to stay for longer, as any dutiful son would come back at such a time. However, something disquieted Edras: a stranger who often came to meet Thalvel on the plantation during that time.
Edras started to investigate, and uncovered a horrifying truth. Through contacts with criminals and unsavory elements of Telvanni origin, Thalvel had acquired samples of blight-ash and flesh from Corprus patients, which he had poisoned my Grandfather with at several meals the year before. Furthermore, Edras discovered a plan to hide evidence of this amongst his own belongings, to cast suspicion on him if need be. Shocked beyond belief, Edras confronted Thalvel with this evidence and, unable to refute it, Thavas fled the plantation.
The following night, Edras was awoken by a strange commotion. Eerie lights came from the direction of the slave's quarters, but when Edras reached them, all the dwellings stood open and completely empty. Edras followed tracks from there into the nearby mountains, where he met a terrible sight. All the slaves, well over a hundred, stood amongst the jagged buildings of a ruined shrine to Molag Bal. They stood in a line as if hypnotized, walking single-file towards a blade with which they slit their own throats before lying down to die. And overlooking it all stood Thavas.
Edras knew that, whatever foul thing was going on here, it had to be stopped. He climbed to where Thavas stood and charged with such fury that Thavas fled into the inner sanctum of the shrine. He led Edras deeper and deeper inside, before turning upon him and striking back with magic, but Edras persevered. They fought barehanded, until, at last, Edras cast Thavas into a flaming pit at the center of the shrine. Through grief at having to kill one who was once as a brother to him, and from his wounds in the battle, Edras emerged from the shrine very weak. When a patrol reached the shrine the following morning, they found all the slaves lying dead in a circle, and Edras lying near-death atop a staircase. He was brought home, wounded but triumphant, to recover.
My grandfather passed away soon after, but not before Edras married Amava. They lived together happily, for a time, but their celebration was premature. Against all expectations, Thavas had returned again. He came in the night, forcing his way into the house. It seemed that, despite Edras' interruption, the ritual at the shrine had succeeded, and Molag Bal had granted Thavas the power he sought to take what he wanted by force. He swore that he would end the Nero bloodline once and for all. Edras bade Amava to flee, and soon the manor was aflame. The next day, poking in the rubble, it was found that everything in the house was utterly incinerated, aside from a few fragments of burnt bone.
My mother's family took control of the plantation, and she moved to Mournhold, where I was born. I won't tell you the whole story of my life, but I will tell you this: Thavas was not ended that night. Our family's ancestral tomb has been defiled. Our old plantation, though no longer bearing our family name, was burned again. Thavas has returned."